Of Pirates and Pranks
by parodyham
Summary: Pranks, when done well, can be fun for all involved parties; however, not all pranks are well received. As a joke, Darigan Citadel team captain Layton Vickles decides to bleach his friend's beloved team jersey. When Garven Hale storms off, potentially breaking ties with the trickster, Layton does everything in his power to win Hale's friendship back. Hilarity ensues.
1. Chapter 1

Thanks for expressing interest in my story. I truly hope you enjoy it!

Edit: Added section breaks. The asterisks that I used in the MS word version did not carry over into the final document.

* * *

"Vickles, this time you've gone too far!"

A tall, stout Bori wearing a blood red bandana burst out of a locker room door, teeth bearing. A golden ring bobbed back and forth from his ear with every step. His silver-grey fur bristled as one claw curled into a fist. The other claw held a grey and pink pinstriped uniform with a skull-and-cross-bone shaped shoulder pads. The words 'Garven Hale' appeared in bright pink lettering along the creased fabric.

"Come on, Hale," sputtered a thin, purple-skinned Hissi with a trail of spikes leading down his back and bright green eyes. "It's just a joke! You know I mean no harm, buddy—"

"Don't 'buddy' me, Layton! Putting hot sauce in my teammate's grog is one thing—I have to admit, that _was_ pretty funny—but destroying my team jersey is another!"

Hale held onto the uniform, staring at the scrunched up fabric in his claws. He sighed gruffly, shaking his head as his arms drooped to the side.

"Layton," he began more quietly, laying the uniform against a nearby chair. He grabbed a towel from a wall and dipped it in a bucket of water. A stream of cool water dripped down his forehead and nose, making it glisten in the low light. His eyes remained fixated on the chair. "I thought we were friends."

"Lighten up, Hale," grumbled the Hissi, attempting to punch him in the shoulder with his wing-like hands. "This isn't like you." Garven looked up at the last second before catching the Hissi's wing. Within a second, Vickles felt a strong push, sending him sailing to the ground. Vickles began to laugh, fangs easily visible. "Now that's the rival I know! Iron Claws Garven!"

"Stop."

"But I—"

"No. You don't understand, Layton—"

"Yeah, you're right. I don't understand." The Hissi began to raise his voice, slithering back up to a standing position. "What's the big deal about bleaching an old, beat up jersey? I'm sure there are extras somewhere."

"And that," he turned away, starting to walk towards the door, "is where you are wrong. For one, my team's jerseys are on order right now, so I guess I'm going to be out on the field today looking like I'm from Faerieland." Vickles noticeably cringed. His green tongue flicked out and quivered shortly. "And that 'old jersey' that you ruined was given to me by Dasher Soley, my retired teammate."

"I…" Vickles began to slither towards him, only for Garven to block him with an outstretched claw.

"I don't want to hear it." His claw wrapped around the doorknob as it swung open. The metal knob slammed against the wall, resonating like a gong. "And if I were you, I wouldn't speak to anyone from the team for a long time. "

CLANK.

Silence hung in the hall. The metallic scream still rang fresh in Vickles' ears. He stood in the spacious locker room for what seemed like hours staring at the door.

The sounds of clicking metal unfroze Vickles from his daze. He jumped back as if bracing to catch a flaming Yooyu without it searing him with its flaring heat. Pulse-pounding heartbeats felt like ice against his scaly skin.

The door opened slowly.

"Look, I'm sorry Gar—"

A slender red-furred Gelert stepped cautiously into the room, turning sleek black wings away from the closing door. His head and ears tilted to the side.

"Uh… hey, Boss. You alright?" called a silky smooth young voice.

The Hissi shook his head vehemently, causing the Gelert to jump back.

"Fine, Shaye, absolutely fine. Why wouldn't I be fine?" Before the Gelert could respond, he blurted, "Where's Garven?"

A black eyebrow rose, as did his right ear, causing him to look like a rather confused Cybunny.

"You mean Krawk Island's team captain? Yeah, I saw him a little bit ago." Vickles held his breath. "It's odd, really. Usually he's pretty personable, but today he walked past me without even a second glance. Eh," the Gelert shrugged. "Maybe he's just nervous about an upcoming matches or something."

"No, it's not that." Vickles' placed his wing upon Shaye's shoulder. "A prank of mine…backfired. I don't think Hale's going to live it down anytime soon."

"You put hot sauce in that Moehog's grog again? 'Cause if she's still annoyed about that, I—"

"No, no. That's pranking done right," he gave a half-grin before averting the Gelert's eyes. "I… bleached Garven's jersey 'cause I thought it would be funny. Moreover, because he's had that old jersey for so many years, I thought he'd find the prank funny as well. Guess I was wrong."

The Gelert's eyes buldged, looking at his own jersey before staring back at the towering team captain. "You did what?"

Vickles bit his tongue, quietly moving towards a nearby bench. As the captain sat down, his tail swished from side to side against the cement floor. Shaye had remained quiet, brow furrowed and face twisted in a mixture of shock and sorrow.

"Hey Boss, either way, we should probably—"

"Tandrak, can you keep a secret?"

Shaye's nose wriggled.

"I thought of a way that I can make up for this, but you're gonna have to cover for me in practice."

"I what?!" Echoes reverberated about the small room. Hushed voices could be heard from right outside the door—probably the press (or those 'irksome quill holding Petpetpets,' as their Jetsam teammate Reshar always said).

"Look, Shaye," the sounds of a dripping faucet and Tandrak's tail slapping against a metal locker (he subsequently yelped in pain) nearly drowned out the Hissi's whispered voice. "Eesh, careful with that tail of yours." Huffing pouts murmured from Shaye's mouth, although he tried to smile either way. "Like I was saying… I'll be missing practice today and-before-you-say-anything," narrowed eyes responded, "this is even more important than winning a game."

"… And just how do you want me to cover?" he spat.

"Say… I'm doing something of dire importance and that I entrust team the team with you, for now."

"You know they're not going to believe that, Boss. Nothing's more important to you than the team," his eyes darted between the captain and the floor, "or so I thought."

A hissed grumble later, Vickles bounded from the bench.

"After the Krawk's game, I'll be back downstairs, ready to practice. Just this favor is all I ask, Tandrak."

"Fine. But I don't approve of what you're doing."

"Eh, neither do I, but as long as no one knows who I am… we'll be peachy."

"What do you—"

"Trust me, Shaye; as long as I have an Altador Cup VIP pass around my neck, I got this covered. Oh and… I'm gonna need to borrow some of your street clothes, too."

* * *

Shaye left the locker room grumbling under his breath. A few Altadorians walked by, some of them waving. He glanced at them, nodded with a semi-smile, and continued along the underground passageway.

"Heeeey, Tandrak!"

A light punch collided with his shoulder. After a sigh, the Gelert turned around, only to jump back slightly. Krawk Island's right forward, a grey-furred bandana-wearing Shoyru known as "Dinksy" gripped her Yooyuball sling tightly, wearing a mischievous grin. When Shaye did not return her playful punch, she whimpered, holding a paw in front of her mouth.

"You're not upset at me, are you?" she questioned cautiously with a mousy voice, letting her sling arm rest to the side.

"It's not you, Dinksy." He massaged the punched shoulder. "I'm just thinking about Layton."

"Oh…" her tail swished from side to side. "Hale's pretty upset at him, you know." A paw rested on her chin. "But to be _fair_—"

"So, I heard you're facing Kreludor today?"

"Huh?" the Shoyru paused for a brief moment, mouth agape. "Oh… I gotcha. Speaking of that game…" Her wings darted out to the side as she burst up into the air fist first, "I'M SO PSYCHED! This is going to be an awesome match, I just know it!" She drifted back to the ground, bounding up and down. "You'll cheer for us, right?"

The Gelert laughed, holding out a fist towards her.

"Only if you cheer for us too! Pound it, Dinksy."

"You know I will!" Her small paws rebounded off Shaye's. "We bad guys have to stick together."

"Haha… let's hope we can." The Darigan Gelert began to shift from side to side. "Well, you have a game to catch and I… I have a team to coach."

Dinksy's eyes widened. "Wait, isn't that Vickles' job?"

"Not today, apparently," he replied in a flat, dry voice. "I only hope he knows what he is doing…"

* * *

It was hard enough convincing Tandrak to lend his Twisted Roses cap, black-rimmed sun shades, and suede leather jacket, but it even harder trying to sneak past mobs of excited Altador Cup fans.

_I only hope Shaye does his job_, thought the captain. _If anyone from the team finds out what I am doing... it could mean trouble._

Out of nowhere, a sudden pain shot up the Hissi's back. It originated from what appeared to be a footprint on his tail.

"Ouch! Have you ever heard of watching where you step?"

A little, blue Tonu wearing a Darigan Citadel t-shirt, black pants, and black shoes walked to his front, bowing slightly. An elastic band held his scraggly mane in place, forming a small ponytail that loosely fell upon his back.

"I'm sorry, mister…"

Vickles shifted the glasses above his eyes slightly, eyeing the little one down.

"Yeah, you should be. Watch your step next time."

The Hissi rolled his eyes before continuing forward, only for the same Tonu to stop him again

"Hey, Mister?"

iIf that squirt was a Yooyu, he'd be flung half-way across the room by now, but… that would give too much away./i

"Yessss?" he hissed quietly.

"You look just like Layton Vickles!"

A couple of passersby turned to look and tilted their heads thoughtfully as if thinking the same thing.

"Uh, yeah. I get that all the time, kid. Now vamoose."

The Tonu began to tear up.

"… I was just gonna say he's my hero, that's all. Sorry for making you mad, Mister…"

"Erk. Uh… okay, okay." He bent over towards the child's ear whilst other Neopians gave him sour looks. "Just between you and me… I i_am_/i Layton Vickles, but I'm on a super secret mission. No one can know about it, alright?"

"You're the actual L—"

Before the Tonu could blurt out his next few words, Layton had covered his mouth.

"Yes, yes, now quit making a scene!"

But a scene they had made. A crowd of fans had now come to look at what had transpired. Vickles could feel his blood pressure rising as his heart knocked against his chest.

"Seriously… Toby," the Tonu twisted his face in confusion. "You know you shouldn't beg Uncle Shaye for stuff. I mean, I work hard day after day so that you guys can come to the cup every year and this is the thanks I get?" Vickles brought up the sunshades and winked.

"Uh… sorry, _Uncle Shaye_, I'll stop being so loud."

"Of course you will, you little rascal!" he said, lightly patting the Tonu's head twice. "You don't want Uncle Shaye getting in trouble, right?"

"Uh…" the Tonu was attempting not to smirk. "No, _Uncle_."

A few of the Neopians raised their brows in confusion before turning away, yet others still eyed him down as if they recognized him somehow.

"Right." Tandrak turned his head in both directions before whispering in the Tonu's ear once more. "If you can keep a secret, I'll buy you something in the gift shop."

"Ooookay," he responded, winking slowly, "_Uncle_ Shaye."

Vickle's eyes narrowed. "And stop with the emphasis. It's suspicious."

"You got it, _Uncle_!"

* * *

While Vickles carried out his plan, Shaye had other things on his mind. He gingerly opened a metal door labeled with the Darigan Citadel logo. The room was small, but had everything an athlete would ever need: treadmills, punching bags, Jelly Chia dummies, and of course, a miniature field complete with a goalie's net. Their chef, a blue Lutari sporting a large white chef's hat and smock, stood at a small wooden table preparing purple and black sandwiches complete with Darigan Krawkade.

All of the Darigan crew was busily practicing. Bonnefie, Darigan's fearless left defender, took turns tackling different Chia dummies. Her slender body made it easy for her to slip between opposing players, even with long, transparent wings. At one point, the Buzz scooped into the air before knocking the dummy to the ground.

Frein, the spiked-collar-wearing Darigan Bruce with a relatively short statue, picked up practice Yooyus (what some Altadorians call "Yooyus in training") and flung them at Reshar's goal (made to scale). Any time he scored, the purple skinned Jetsam would fling his glove to the ground, shouting all sorts of Darigan obscenities.

"For goodness' sake, Reshar," Bonnefie said, eyeing the Jetsam with her fist sized red eyes between practice tackles. This time, the dummy hit the ground with such velocity that it left a small dent against the carpeted floor. The chef jumped back, sending plates of food flying to the ground. Needless to say, he was not happy. "Think about the little ones in the audience! Some of them view you as a hero, you know!"

"Feh," spat the Jetsam as he missed another goal. "Well they oughtta learn that heroes aren't everything they're cracked up to be. Best they learn how the world _really_ works early on, am I right?"

"I'd disagree with that, Reshar. And you know Layton would too, hard-headed as he is."

"Hey, it's the big red guy himself!" shouted Reshar, much to the dismay of his teammates. "Here I thought you weren't gonna show up for practice! I mean, I know how much you hate practicing with a big, tough Jetsam like—"

"Speaking of hard-heads," interjected Frein with a sneer, "where _is_ he? Layton, I mean."

The Gelert froze.

"Shaye?" Both of his long wings drooped to the side, making Bonnefie eye him suspiciously.

Shaye gulped, shuffling about before opening his mouth to speak. "Guys, he's not coming to practice today."

"WHAT?!" the three of them shouted at varying intensities. Reshar spared no time grabbing the Gelert's collar, growling in his face. After a few tense moments, Bonnefie found herself peeling Reshar away (with some help from Frein), leaving the Gelert shaken up.

"R-right, then," with the help of everyone else in the room, the team managed to calm down, although it was a sort of uneasy calmness. "At least the extra tear in my uniform looks thematic. Moving on, Layton told me to run the practice session today; said he had some important business to resolve. I know this is a big day for us being our last chance at the finals, but… we can still win this."

Bonnefie exhaled loudly, kicking the dummy a couple of feet away. "And just when is he coming back?"

"Well, that's the thing," Shaye started. "Apparently, he'll be back shortly after the Krawks finish their game."

"Then we had better work on a three Neopian strategy just in case," spat the Bruce. "You can fill both offensive positions, right, Shaye?"

"… Sure."

"Then we better get to practicing. This is going to be a rough day for all of us."

* * *

After nearly giving away his identity, sneaking to the gift shop proved relatively easy. The Tonu's gabbing made it all the easier to slip by unnoticed, although it would have been _great_ if he would stop asking about the Darigan team.

"So, so… can you tell me all about Bonnefie? Can you, can you?" he hopped up and down. "I'm a huge fan of her."

"Kep? She's a great player," Vickles whispered under his breath. "She's got a good slinging arm, is an effective tackler, and can catch anything that comes her way. You should have seen the way she tackled Mirsha in our last match! Er…" a few Neopians seemed to be curiously listening into their conversation. "I mean their match."

The two of them came across a small store within the stadium walls. It seemed oddly quiet for a half-hour prior to the Krawk's match, especially since it had all sorts of memorabilia displayed in the transparent glass windows.

"Might as well go in," he muttered while ushering the Tonu into the store.

Altador Cup logo lights dangled from the ceiling, light flickering from one symbol to the next. Assorted and sundry plushies decorated shelves lining the walls representative of all seventy of the current team members. Well, all of them but Shaye. On a lonely shelf surrounded by a glass box was a plushie version of Dasher Soley. 'Now with real swashbuckling phrases!' chimed an excited tag dangling from the object's squishy arm.

"Eesh," said Vickles with a sigh, rubbing his left wing against his sweating forehead. "Even the gift shop gives me guilt."

In the back corner of the room was a section with a label that read, "Cheer for your favorite team! New this year: team specific face paint, cleats and funky wigs!"

Vickles eyed the 'funky wigs,' all of which looked like gigantic painted meatballs.

_Well, at least no one would ever recognize me if I wore one of those stupid looking wigs_, he thought dryly.

"Hey, Layton!" chimed the excited Tonu, who continuously tugged on Vickles' arm. "I want one of these wigs! They look sooo cool!"

Vickles froze.

"Kid! What did I tell you about calling me by—"

The storeowner stopped ringing up an order and stared.

"I mean… come on, little fellow, you know I don't like being called anything other than 'Uncle Shaye.' And… you want that wig? Would that make you happy?"

_So you can get off of my back_? he mentally added.

The Tonu nodded.

"Right, then." Vickles went to grab the purple and black wig and handed it to the youngster before turning towards all of the Krawk Island merchandise. With a deep sigh, he picked up a black and red wig, a Krawk Island jersey, and Krawk island wrist cuffs.

"Hey, um… Why are you getting those? They're for Krawk Island!"

"It's a long story, kid—"

"And by the way, _Uncle_, the name's _Christopher_, but you should probably know that already," he chimed between giggles.

An eye roll later, Vickles started pushing the kid up towards the counter.

"Just these things," he muttered while looking down at the ground.

"Shopping for your nephew?" asked a purple Xweetok wearing a bright yellow hat and apron. She punched in a bunch of numbers into a register, chuckling slightly at the team variation.

"Something like that."

"That'll be 500,000 Neopoints, sir."

Vickles slumped over, flicking out his tongue repeatedly. _Gees, I could buy half of Neopia for that kind of money_!

A pile of Neopoints bounced onto the counter, many of them purple and black.

"Neopoints with a picture of Lord Darigan's face, eh, sir? So you both are from the Citadel?"

"Actually," burst Christopher with a beaming smile, "_he's_ from the Citadel. I'm from Brightvale, but I've always liked bad guys over learning!" Vickles wing slid down his face, curling more as it traveled.

"We're not all bad guys…" Vickles muttered under his breath.

"So he's going to be wearing Krawk Island gear and you're going to be wearing a Darigan wig? … You're an odd pair, you know that?" asked the shopkeeper with a laugh.

"We get that a lot," spat the Darigan as he placed the money on the counter and pulled the jersey over his head. It was tight and caught on each one of his spikes. The wig tickled his scalp and seemed to swallow up Tandrak's Twisted Roses cap under a pile of springy material. At least the wrist cuffs only slightly chafed his wings, but only after pinching him twice.

"Uh… here's your change," called the Xweetok, handing back golden coins with a sun etched into them.

"Right." The Hissi snatched the coins from her hand and stuffed them into his Neopoint bag. He turned to Christopher. "Let's go."

Out in the crowds yet again, Vickles turned to Christopher, purple and black wig in tow.

"Happy now?" he asked in a low, growling tone.

"Well… I know you're on a secret mission, but… I was hoping to stay with you a little longer."

"Can you not?"

"Well… I kinda don't know where my Mom is right now. Can I stay with you until I find her?"

"For Darigan's sake, kid!" he shouted, thumping his long tail against the ground.

"I… I don't want to be alone. There are a lot of people here and…" Vickles was already shaking his head. "I was really hoping to spend time with my hero."

"No."

He started to tear up, holding a paw in front of his mouth and looking out towards the side. "And here I thought you were cool. Guess not. You're not even a Darigan if you're wearing another team's colors!"

Vickles removed his shades, feeling a definitive sting as he stared directly into Christopher's eyes.

"Heh, guess you're right. I probably don't even deserve to wear my team colors after what I did."

Sniffling began to subside, but he still refused to look back.

The reason I'm dressed up like this is because I did something stupid to a friend of mine on the Krawk's team. I felt the only way I could make up for it was by looking just as ridiculous as he will..."

"What do you—"

Waves of Neopians flooded by them sprinting to find their seats, drowning him out. A loud voice chimed over the intercom, resonating about the stadium.

"The match between Krawk Island and Kreludor will start in fiiiiive minutes!" a female voice sang. "This is sure to be a match you don't want to miss! So grab your seats and get ready for the match of the century!"

Dueling swords on the cuffs' center caused a metallic sheen to bounce off Vickles' eyes.

_Just like old Garven and I, eh? Always battling since the very beginning._

"So, Christopher, you really want to spend time with a jerk like me?"

Christopher wiped his face and mane eagerly, displaying a wry grin. "Only if that jerk will let me."

"Yeah, he will." Vickles nodded, motioning towards the ticket booth. "But we had better hurry! I don't want all of this to be for nothing!"

"Then we better go… For Krawk Citadel!" the rambunctious Tonu shouted.

"For what now?" the Hissi slithered along the ground towards the ever-nearing booth.

"Well, I thought," Christopher began with loud breaths in between, "since you're wearing Krawk Island's uniform and I'm wearing Darigan Citadel stuff, the two of our teams together would be called 'Krawk Citadel!' Cool, huh?"

Vickles' was moving at least twice his speed and pacing behind him proved difficult.

"Sure, kid." Layton turned towards a shuttered box office window with red curtains flowing down its windowpane. On the curtains were the cursive golden letters 'VIP.' "I'll have two VIP box tickets, please? Down by Hale's goal."

"Do you even _have_ a VIP pass, sir?" came a rather stern, snobbish voice. "Those seats are reserved for only the pinnacle of Altadorians. And excuse me for saying this, but you _hardly_ seem like a pinnacle citizen."

"Feh, you suits are all the same." He pulled at a lanyard dangling from his neck and carefully maneuvered it around the spacious wig. Slapping it against the counter, he pushed it inside the shuttered window. Removing his shades, he spat, "how's this for pinnacle?"

Loud gasps filled the inside of the room. One of them even shouted 'my word!' while others scrambled about.  
"M-my sincerest apologies, Mister Layton, s-sir. I-I didn't recognize you in that a-apparel."

"Yeah, yeah, I lost a bet. Don't remind me. Oh, and tell no one I'm dressed like this or I swear I'll tell the Altador Cup committee about your less-than-professional behavior."

"A-as you wish, Mister Layton. And my greatest of apologies to your esteemed guest as well."

Vickles grabbed the tickets and wrapped the lanyard over his wing, holding it like a Yooyuball sling.

"Come on, Squirt, we got a game to catch."


	2. Chapter 2

Weaseling through the stands took a good twenty minutes as the stadium's bowl shaped interior made it especially hard to navigate. As Neopia's largest sports arena, officials often bragged how easily it could be seen from the Virtupets space center. It towered over even the highest buildings present in Faerieland and made up approximately one-sixteenth of the city's total area. Identical marble columns surrounded the coliseum, giving it a uniform appearance.

Christopher wandered off on multiple occasions; he stared in awe at the stadium's every detail. Once, while pointing out the gently swaying golden and yellow banners hanging from the ceilings, intricate marble floor tiling, and detailed tapestry with illustrations representing the eighteen teams, the Tonu began to cry.

"Hey there, Christopher, you okay?" Vickles asked with concern in his voice. "I didn't say something wrong again, did I?"

The Tonu shook his head, wiping away each tear slowly, as if cherishing the emotion. His eyes glittered like little stars on a moonless night.

"I'm good, Layton, just happy. I just… I never thought that I'd meet my favorite player in all of Neopia _and_ see the stadium in the same day."

Vickles sighed, looking Christopher straight in the eye with brows furrowed.

"Oops," he said, rubbing a hoof behind his head. "My bad."

"It's fine, I guess, but didn't your parents take you around the stadium? Here I thought you practically lived and breathed Yooyuball."

"Well, I do," he replied, voice cracking slightly, "but… my Dad doesn't like Yooyuball and my Mom is really busy all the time and doesn't like it when I wander off." When Vickles raised an eyebrow, the Tonu quickly blurted, "oh, but don't worry. I'm sure she'll be fine with me hanging out with you!"

"Yeah, I hope you're right, kid."

Luckily for the many Neopian spectators, the weather had cooperated throughout the majority of the cup. Today, sunlight poured from the partially cloudy sky, warming both seat and field alike. Only during Maraqua's match versus Moltara did it downpour for over half the game. Needless to say, the magma members of Moltara did not appreciate the fickle weather.

By the time the duo made it to their cushioned seats, the game was already 1-0, Krawk Island in the lead. Vickles picked out the VIP section when he spotted many finely dressed Neopians grouped together; most refused to give them eye contact as they dined on fine Meridell cheese, Kreludorian chicken cordon bleu, and herb baked bread provided by the bakers of Brightvale.

"As you can tell, I'm quite the popular one."

"But… Layt—I mean, _Uncle_ Shaye, if they knew who you are, they wouldn't be acting this way…"

"Eh, doesn't matter to me either way. Darigan knows I'd rather stay under the radar as much as possible…"

A few of their neighbors stood up suddenly, requesting to be moved with more 'high class' Altadorians. The one wore a black suit and top hat, the other an evening gown and matching emerald earrings.

"More room for us!" cheered the Tonu. "We don't need those fancy pants!"

"Bwahaha, guess you're right, Christopher. They're just impressed by my Darigan _charm_-it works every time."

The both of them cackled, causing the so-called VIP Neopians to squirm even more.

After he finally had a chance to look over the field, it hit him. When the ticket salesman said he would give them the closest seats, he meant it. Hale stood only fifty feet away and wore the pink and grey jersey that he had ruined only hours before. Guilt swept over the Hissi, making his stomach churn.

"… Okay? … Hey! You okay?!" Vickles could feel two little hoofs pushing him from side to side. He shook his head, causing the wig to wiggle back and forth.

"I'm… fine. Don't worry about me. Just feeling a little queasy, that's all."

"But… it's not even your match. Are you getting nervous or something?"

Vickles grimaced, bowing his head down.

"See that guy with the washed out jersey down there?"

Christopher titled his head before nodding slowly. "Yeaaah, I do. So why's he wearing pink and grey? He kinda looks like a Faerielander." Vickles began to mutter under his breath. "Don't the pirates wear red and black? I mean, the rest of his team is."

"It's my fault," he muttered into the Tonu's ear. "That's why."

"B-but…" the Tonu began to make a pouty face, letting his ears turn downwards. "Wouldn't that be really mean?"

Vickles winced, choking out each subsequent word. "Yeah. Yeah it would be, kid."

"Aren't you gonna say 'sorry' to him?"

Vickles scrunched up his right wing-like hand. "I'm going to try. But seriously, Christopher, stop with the sad talk. Just enjoy the game like a normal kid, okay? I need to think for a while."

"Oookay," chimed the Tonu, his legs swinging back and forth under the chair.

For a while, the two watched the game in silence. The Yooyu sped from player to player, often exchanged between teams. Dinksy seemed especially energetic as she darted about the field like a robotic toy. At one point, she tackled one of the Grundo brothers (Vickles could never tell them apart) and slung the fiery Yooyu towards the Kreludorian goalkeeper, a red Ruki named Jurin.

His dive would have been great for a normal Yooyu, but the breakneck speed of the flaming Petpet proved too fast for the goalkeeper (and, based on the way he cradled an arm, it may have done far more than singe some hairs).

The match continued 2-2 for quite some time. The Yooyu remained towards the Kreludorian goal, but their defense would not let up easily; after being tackled multiple times, the Krawk's offensive squad seemed to be losing steam. Within minutes, they were barreled over and the Yooyu neared Garven's goal.

Vickles could feel himself chewing at his claw tips in anticipation. Cassale and Suffax, the Island's Moehog and Grundo defensive team, kept the offense at bay, but struggled when Metrone, Kreludor's right defender and a spunky spotted Ogrin, made a sideways sneak attack and stole the Yooyu from Cassale's clutches.

Just as Metrone neared Garven's goal, the Ogrin began to laugh, making the usually stoic Hale seethe with rage.

"What's the matter, Hale?" Metrone made a shot that Hale quickly blocked and repelled. The Ogrin caught it once more. "Did you accidentally swap tear gear with the Faeries or something?" This time, the Yooyu flew easily into Garven's goal, causing him to fall to his knees and slam the ground. Booing could be heard all around the stadium from Krawk Island fans.

Kreludor's captain, a purple furred Gnorbu with orange specks dotting her face, could be seen hovering near the Krawk's goal, shaking a paw at the misbehaving Ogrin. Her curly, fiery orange hair bounced after each word.

"Metrone, Kreludorks do not show poor sportsmanship to their opponents. Unless you want to be replaced next season, I suggest you shape up your attitude along with your scoring abilities." Metrone rolled her eyes before stealthily sticking her tongue out at the fallen goalie. Hale began to noticeably shake. "Is that clear? If so, then move out, the next Yooyu is coming soon."

In the mean time, Vickles stood up from his cushioned seat, cupping both hands around his mouth.

"Iron Claws, don't let her wind you up! You can do better than that—I would know!"

Hale whipped around, methodically scanning the horrified audience behind him. Slanted eyebrows and gleaming teeth met each one of their faces. Suddenly, he stopped.

"Vickles? Is that you?" Hale mouthed silently, scrunching his claws into fists.

When their eyes locked, the Bori's facial expression changed from that of pure rage to complete shock. His mouth dropped half a foot and eyes widened to that of saucers.

The Hissi removed his teammates' sunshades and sat with both wings crossed over his waist.

"The one and only," Vickles mouthed back.

"Hey, you!" shouted a red Scorchio referee touting a vertically striped black-and-white shirt and a gray tin whistle. A multitude of Neopians stared at him, some from across the stadium. "Don't interfere with game play!"

Vickles slumped back into the chair, avoiding eye contact.

"Mission accomplished," he murmured.

"You're crazy, you know that…_Uncle_?"

"Hah. You'd be surprised."

"Hey… um…" the Tonu lowered his voice to a whisper," _Layton_, it looks like your friend is talking with the referee. For some reason, they both look happy."

The Hissi raised twisted his mouth to the side. "You don't say…"

"I… I think he accepted your apology."

He patted Christopher's shoulder. "Eh, here's hoping. Cost me a fortune to get these tickets."

The rest of the game, Garven did not miss a single block. In the last five seconds of the game, Hawkshanks and Dinksy managed to score two more goals, bringing the score total to 4-3. Right as the buzzer sounded, the Kreludorites attempted to make a last second goal, but Hale deflected the Yooyu, sending it twenty feet into the air.

"That's my rival!" shouted Vickles, who noticed that almost all of the stuffy "high-class" Neopians had vacated the area.

Christopher even added his own branding of cheering: "Watch out, it's hurricane Hale! He's bringing all the storms and the Yooyuball gales!"

Although the captain rolled his eyes, he found himself laughing loudly, wiping a tear from his eye.

"Alright," said the referee, "this was a very close match, but in the end, Krawk Island proved victorious! Stay tuned to the playing field, Altador Cup fans! Krawk Island will be facing the Haunted Woods in a match to decide bracket one of the semi finals! Following that game, Darigan Citadel will be facing the Lord Desert in a match that is sure to be a semi-finals smash!"

The crowd let a mixture of cheers and groans, but none cheered louder than the Darigan captain and his partner in crime. In the middle of their shouts, he could feel the icy touch of a cold hoof upon his shoulder. Within seconds, he was pinned against the chair.

"What givesss!" he hissed angrily. "What in Neopia did _I_ do?"

"How about kidnapping my son!" came a shrill voice belonging to, at least what he could make out of the corner of his eye, a stern faced green Uni. Black-rimmed spectacles with sloping metal chains lined her face. She wore a collared Brightvale blazer and a nearly pressed green skirt. The Uni suspended her long blonde hair in a tight bun, reminiscent of many scholars seen in the Brightvale libraries. A lanyard strung around her neck, but he could not make out exactly what it said.

"Wait, Mom!" shrieked the child while being tugged away by security officers. Vickles' turned to the Tonu aghast, mouthing the words, 'this is your Mom?' Seeing the Hissi speak, she held him down with ever greater force, making him cough loudly.

"It's my fault—please don't hurt him..."

She looked upon Vickles with distain, holding a hoof above his face. "You should be ashamed of yourself! Trying to steal away a reporter's child during the middle of a Yooyuball tournament—the nerve!"

"For Darigan's sake!" he shouted with a strained voice, frantically squirming about. "Your kid wanted to spend time with a real live Yooyuball player, so I purchased a ticket for him. Is that so bad?!"

"I don't believe—"

"It's true, Mom!" Christopher cried. Tears were streaming down his face. "Let him go… Please, just let him go! He's my hero!"

"Hero?" she spat, crossing her hoofs. Her scowl became even more severe as the spectacles slid down her snout. "You mean that workaholic Hissi with an attitude problem? This is him?"

"_M'am_," the Hissi stopped fighting back and glanced down at his VIP tag, which had still, miraculously, remained around his winged hand. "You might want to take a look at this. And can someone get this wig off of my head, please? It's getting caught in the seat."

She inched forward and turned over the golden backed laminated pass while a security guard carefully removed the ball of wiry material. A picture of a mischievously grinning Hissi wearing Darigan team gear stood above a name written in gold cursive letters: Layton Vickles, Darigan Citadel Team Captain, Left Forward.

A hoof slowly rose to her mouth as she waved off the guards.

"Oh dear, it seems I made a bit of a miscalculation…" Her hoof tapped at the laminated lanyard as she looked to be deep in thought. "Wait a second!" she began aggressively once more. "I'm a reporter from the _Daily Brightvale_, a local newspaper, and I would like a word with you on just _why_ you're running around wearing Krawk Island fan gear and causing such a ruckus in the stadium."

"Some other time would be great," he spoke flatly, letting his green tongue dangle. "My team is waiting on me right now and if you weren't paying attention, I have a match coming up soon."

"Wait…" questioned Christopher, "but does that mean you—"

"Skipped practice on the day of an important match? Very perceptive of you. And if I don't come soon, I'll be breaking a promise I made with my teammate Tandrak."

"Attention, Altadorians, we have an urgent announcement!" the voice from the loudspeakers boomed across the stadium, causing the lot of them to freeze. "Due to a minor injury, the Haunted Woods team has asked to play against Lost Desert in two rounds. Thus, starting in thirty minutes, team Darigan Citadel will be facing Krawk Island for the upcoming semi-final match! Given their timeless rivalries, this should a match you don't want to miss!"

Vickles' felt his entire body go numb. It almost felt as if the entire stadium was collapsing upon him.

Even Christopher's Mother seemed shocked by the news.

"I…. I guess we have no choice. But you will come and see me after the match, Mister Layton Vickles."

"That rotten little stink," muttered the Hissi.

"Excuse me?" questioned the Mother, scrunching up her snout.

"He did this… on purpose…" Vickles' roared between bared fangs. "YOU DID THIS ON PURPOSE, HALE!"


	3. Chapter 3

Author's note: Apologies if some of the sections ran together before. I had asterisks separating the sections, but they didn't carry over into the published document. To all of my readers, thank you for reading this story! I hope you enjoy chapter 3.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the practice room…

"Did you hear that?" questioned Bonnefie while punching the Chia dummy in the face.

"Unfortunately, yes."

"It's a good thing I thought to plan ahead, right, Shaye?"

"We get it, Frein, you can stop reminding us," muttered Bonnefie.

Shaye's right paw dug through the short red hairs covering his head.

"Well, guys, it looks like we'll be facing our greatest rivals today." The Gelert's ears flopped to the side, his face worn. "Normally, this would be a joyous occasion, but not today. Either way, we will just have to make the best of a bad situation. Even with one Neopian down, we're still the meanest, most diabolical team this side of Neopia, right?"

The Buzz laughed. "Well, in the eyes of many of our opponents and their fans, sure."

"As interim team captain, I say we run through some drills and get as much practice in as we possibly can. We have 15 minutes to get ready before the match of our lives begins." He turned to each of them, they subsequently nodded. "Alright, team, let's do this."

* * *

"When I get my claws on him…" Vickled grumbled, slithering along the passageways, a group of security officers, Christopher, and his Mother following in close pursuit. Every twenty or so feet, a random Neopian would approach him, some asking for autographs, others for an interview.

"Some other time," he would say after every request, pushing the press aside as if they were opposing Yooyuball players.

As they approached the 'employees only' section of the stadium, Vickles turned to the group.

"If you want to come along, feel free, but I have to meet with my teammates and do something to fix this mess. But I'm just warning you in advanced, if I run into a certain Yooyuball player…" his eyes narrowed into slits. "Let's just say we may be staging our own games…"

Christopher's Mother gasped, but her son quickly ran over to Vickles' side.

"I wanna stay with him, Mom. He's going to need some back up."

Vickles just shook his head as he jetted into the internal passageways. The Tonu shuffled about. "You're one strange kid, you know that?"

"Yuuup! That's what everyone tells me!"

"Well, in an effort to make peace with your Mother," he chuckled from a distance, "do whatever she wants."

The staff merely turned to the two, sighed gruffly and muttered, "Since you're press and he's with you, so it should be alright for the two of you to follow Captain Vickles, but please try not to make a scene."

She pushed the glasses up against her hazel eyes. "Oh, don't worry; I know how to be professional. It's that captain you should be worried about."

Vickles sprinted along the passageways as if dashing towards an opponent's goal. Underneath the stadium were seemingly endless hallways surrounded by concrete ceiling and floor. White and grey covered the walls. Not nearly as decorated as the touristy area above, it looked muted and mundane. Occasionally, a door would pop up, each bearing the logo of a competing team.

As Vickles passed by the door to the Haunted Woods' practice room, it swung open. A small grey furred Korbat bearing the Haunted Wood's logo stepped out of the room, beady eyes blinking in confusion. Known as the Woods' most consistent scorer and centre fielder, Zo breathed heavily, his face flushed. Even the vivid flames painted upon his wings seemed duller than usual, as if they had a mind of their own.

"Vickles!" he breathed. "I'm so terribly sorry that our team put you through this at the last… minute…" the Korbat trailed off, fanning himself with two long, bat-like wings. When Vickles did not respond immediately, the Korbat continued. "So… what's with the Krawk Island jersey?"

"It's a long story, Zo," the Hissi leaned against the wall, heart pounding into his chest. "What is up with this injury?"

The Korbat noticeably tensed up. "Well… Mortigan seems to have broken his leg. Captain Krell and the rest are trying to stitch him back together now."

"WHAT?!" shouted the Hissi in an exasperated tone. "How could he do that to a fellow Altadorian?"

Echoes bounced throughout the halls, causing Zo to cover his long, pointed ears. After tumbling a bit, he managed to keep his balance.

"Gees, Vickles," whispered the disoriented Korbat. "What in Neopia are you talking about?"

Vickled shrugged, face emotionless.

"You see, Mortigan has a habit of losing limbs," he said thoughtfully, "although it _has _been some time since this last occurred. He'll be alright in time, though. We just need to reattach it with some glue and he'll be good as new."

"Eh?" Vickles blinked a few times, trying not to be affected by the weirdness. "So Hale didn't sabotage you guys?"

"Uh… no? I mean, I saw the two of them chatting shortly before the incident, but Mortigan didn't seem alarmed or anything." The Korbat tilted his head. "Either way, I wanted to wish you guys the best despite everything. Thanks for your concern and I'm sorry again for all of the trouble…"

"I guess it's alright," he said between grumbled hisses.

"And ease up on the shouting, will you? Some of us are pretty sensitive here."

"Right, I'll do that sometime," he blurted before storming off. Pains shot out from his side as both clawed wings dug into his skin. The rest of the group had just caught up when Vickles made a beeline for the team, leaving Zo completely flabbergasted.

"I'm… going to go back and practice or something," he said while gripping the door and closing it slowly. The group eyed him wearily. Before the Korbat could shut the door completely, it shot open once again. Both paws cupped around his mouth, forming an impromptu megaphone of sorts. Vickles had just turned the corner. "I'll see you in the finals, okay? Do your best out there!"

Shortly after the Korbat's cheer, the door shut tightly. A loud clunk could be heard from the other side.

By the time the group had reached the Darigan training room, Vickles' was already inside. Even from a distance, shouting could be heard.

Inside the room, Reshar was threatening to lob a Darigan Yooyu at his captain's face, calling him a traitor for wearing another team's jersey. Bonnefie, although usually calm and collected, shouted at Vickles, calling his behavior 'irresponsible, especially before a match.'

"It's not like I planned on changing up the schedule," he spat, grabbing an extra sling from the goal.

"All in favor of letting the captain sit out, say I," responded Frein. "I mean, we have a formation planned and—"

"All of you! Stop acting like this." Tandrak's tail whipped against the ground, colliding into one of the practice Yooyus. It whipped into the empty goal. "If you guys would stop shouting at each other for just a moment, you would have noticed that we have guests."

Christopher gripped onto his Mother's legs, peering over at the group.

"And who are you, little guy?" questioned Bonnefie in a nervous tone. Her long, upturned wings began to twitch in all directions.

"He's our biggest fan," replied Layton flatly. "Christopher, meet the team. Team, Christopher."

"Oh." Shaye bit his lip, shuffling from side to side. Instead of speaking to Layton, he turned to Christopher, who whimpered quietly. "Well, little guy, this is team Darigan Citadel! We're really happy to have a guest as cool as you around."

Quiet murmurs escaped the Tonu's mouth, but no one, not even his Mother, could understand.

"What was that?" asked Shaye in a calm, collected voice. "We're sorry to have startled you. We, uh, get this way sometimes."

Christopher shuffled from behind his Mother's legs and twiddled his hoofs in clockwise circle.

"You're not going to be banning Uncle Shaye 'cause of me, are you?"

"What?" said Shaye while eyeing Layton suspiciously, especially when Vickles' face noticeably flushed.

"I mean…" he paused, tensing up a little. "_Captain Vickles_ spent the entire afternoon with me and… I don't want him getting in trouble 'cause of me…" The Tonu began to pout.

"Uh…" Shaye said, managing to keep his canine teeth from sticking over his gums. Christopher wiggled about; his eyes looked wet. "Alright, alright, I guess we don't really have a choice. Seeing as we have ten minutes before the match, we'll include Layton on two conditions."

"As the captain, don't I get a say in this?" the Hissi crossed both arms over each other.

"Condition number one: I know you had your reasons, but, your actions could have caused disaster for the team. As such, I nominate myself to be the temporary team captain until the end of the season."

"How can you—"

"Either this or you're out, Layton. I'm sorry, Boss."

"Seconded," Bonnefie said while twirling a Darigan Yooyu around her claw.

"Third…ed," chimed Frein.

"… Fine. But no one can know about this," his gaze shifted over to the journalist.

"No promises."

"Yeah, I figured as much. Nothing's going my way today. So… _great and powerful captain_, what else do you want me to do? Walk around in a Blue Wocky suit and pretend I'm a team mascot?"

"I'd actually love to see that." Reshar wiggled his eyebrow, grinning maniacally.

"Layton," said Shaye as the Hissi continued to rub his scaly face. Before the Gelert spoke again, he ripped the sunglasses off of the former captain's face, motioning for the leather jacket as well. Although hard to make out, the Hissi's eyes appeared to puff slightly.

"Darn Altadorian sunlight," muttered the Hissi. Leather hand protectors belted him in the head, causing him to howl in pain.

"Well, best get used to that Altadorian sun, Boss. You'll be doing so while wearing that Krawk Island jersey."

"I—"

"Now get ready, we're heading out in two minutes. Odds stacked against us or not, we have a game to win."

* * *

Vickles slithered through the dimly lit hallways. More than a couple of times, Shaye nudged him to move faster. The floor felt cold and biting. Usually before a match, there would be nervous chatter and exchanged words of encouragement. Not today.

The Hissi kept staring down at the floor expecting to see an excited squirt with a head of doughnut hair and a bright purple jersey. Amidst protests from the Tonu, Christopher and his Mother remained in the Darigan training room. The team's personal chef seemed excited to speak about his culinary expertise and the recent, _dramatic_ happenings.

"Hey, Shaye," the Hissi's head drooped towards the ground as he spoke. "Can you at least give me the dignity to direct you all on the field today? Then I could at least _play_ the part of a captain." The word 'play' stung of bitterness and resentment. One could almost feel its biting touch, even from a distance. "If you ever valued my contribution to the team at all, let me retain at least some self-respect."

Shaye's entire body tightened up. His free paw curled into a first as each stride made less and less of a sound.

"Layton, on a normal day, I would have said yes."

Vickles punched the wall, wincing as his winged free hand throbbed.

"We have no time to waste on arguing." Shaye's words were cool and detached. "You'll be my backup today, our designated slinger."

One rounded eye glared back at him.

"As our team's most reliable scorer, we're depending on you to shoot accurately." He brushed a bunch of red fur away to one side. Tufts kept standing on end, even after being held down. Bonnefie's gaze fixed on the Gelert's busied paw.

It was shaking.

"Layton, please understand this is for the best." Bonnefie's wings drooped against her back.

"I'll try to remember that next time I'm humiliated."

The shouts of eager Yooyuball falls became louder as the playing field grew nearer. They mixed with a clamor of other sounds, including that of an overly energetic male announcer. Based on the bubbly chatter in the background, he was in the same room as the other announcers, including the one who reported the Krawk's last match. Vickles grumbled under his breath, muttering something about the 'stupid press' just as they approached the automatic gate standing between them and the field. All of a sudden, a group of figures approached.

"Um… hey, Tandrak." The sound of shuffling footsteps scraped against the concrete floor. "Are you… ready for a fun match?"

"Dinksy, he's not really in the mindset to be talking right now," blurted Frein.

"I… sorry." The Shoyru floated into the air, hovering in front of Tandrak's face. Frein scowled, twisting his beak to the side, but said nothing. Only after snapping her paws a few times did Shaye's head shake. Blinking a few times, his pointed tail unwound from a bent leg and dangled limply in the air.

"Oh, hi, Dinksy," he said weakly, forcing a smile. "Yeah, today is going to be a ton of fun…"

"Are you okay, Tandr—"

"Dinksy!" shouted a commanding voice, causing the Shoyru to jump back and quiver. Vickles raised his head, flicking his tongue out in the dry air. "Come here now; we need you to go into formation."

"R-right away, Garven…"

"Hale." Vickles' hand dug into the Yooyu sling, imprinting on the metallic handle.

"Why so glum, Vickles?" his tone seemed innocent enough, but it had a sort of smarm that hinted otherwise. "Aren't you _excited_ to play us? I mean, you certainly seemed excited when you were cheering for us from the stands."

The Darigan team stared wide-eyed as the Hissi sucked in his breath.

"I feel sorry for Mortigan, Vickles, but I'm sure he'll be fine soo—hey, let go of me!"

"Not until you tell me what you did to Mortigan." The Hissi managed to grip both of Hale's arms. The goalie flailed about, knocking Vickles against a wall.

"I told him the truth, Layton, that's all." Hale lowered his voice to a barely audible whisper. "He happily agreed to help us play our favorite rivals."

"How much did it cost you?" the Hissi sneered, receiving a growl in response.

"Layton!" shouted Tandrak as he stamped against the concrete floor. "Get in position. The gates are about to open and our fans will be watching. Use your aggression during the game, not before it!"

Vickles deflated, much to the surprise of scowling Hale. All the while, the rest of the team looked away and twiddled their thumbs; Dinksy even began to whistle a low, barely audible tune. Shaye recognized it as some sort of a seaworthy tune.

Melodious sounds filled the chambers. Prior to each match, the same triumphant tune played on a chorus of trumpets and bugles. Dubbed 'The Altadorian Anthem,' the tune was an ancient one. According to Altadorian historians, such a song played just as sweetly now as it had thousands of years ago, even with older technology.

Normally the song would inspire excitement and joy, but no sounds could be heard from the now hushed teams as they paced onto the dusty field. Shouts of excitement rose from the audience as Neopians played their vuvuzuelas and spun towels branded with the Darigan and Krawk Island logos. Unlike the 'VIP section,' the average Neopian seemed more animated, for better or worse.

Each team member lined up in a row in the center of the field. They stood on either side, silently eyeing each other. Vickles scrunched his sling-hand, looking towards the dumbfounded audience members with long, sad eyes. Many of them pointed at his out of place Krawk Island jersey, some even booed.

"Now, Altadorians," started the referee, who eyed Vickles with contempt between casual glances at the other team members. "I want only fair play today. Shake each other's ', claws, and hands, and get into positions. At the sound of my whistle, we'll start game play."

Members of equal positions (Reshar would often shake fins with Sufaux, the Krawk's right defender) were always encouraged to shake each others' paws in an attempt to encourage comradery between teams. It did not always work.

Shaye shrugged, shuffling off towards Dinksy. The Shoyru's wings fluttered at his approach; Hale eyed the two wearily, tapping his Yooyu sling against the ground. The two of them pounded fists, grinning goofily after turning back to their respective sides.

The rest of the team members seemed to weakly acknowledge each others' presence, although Bonnefie forced a smile when her counterpart approached.

"To a great match," the Buzz said between shaking her hoof.

"Let it be as great as our lands combined, ay?"

The two of them laughed nervously, rubbing their free hands against the Yooyu sling.

"Ay," responded Bonnefie.

When it came time for Vickles and Hale to shake, the both of them spat at the ground.

"So, _Captain_," deadpanned Hale, "let's at least pretend to have a good time, eh? You know, for the kiddies."

A bunch of smaller voices could be heard shouting their names. One of them even said, 'you're my hero, Vickles!' causing the Hissi to recoil slightly before brushing Hale's claw away.

"Let's just get this over with, Hale. You've gotten your revenge on me now." His eyes narrowed. "I bet you feel just peachy 'cause of it too."

"Just as peachy as you felt for destroying my jersey? Well, I guess we can both look ridiculous now."

"Humph. Why do you think I did that stunt in the first place?!" he jabbed his hand towards the stands causing a few well-dressed Neopians to gasp. "I dressed that way to cheer _you_ up, stupid."

"Just go, Layton. I don't want to hear it."

The referee scowled, palming a yellow card as the trumpets stopped their play and the players took their places. "Don't make me use this, captain."

"Don't worry," responded Vickles with an eye roll, "I'll play nice."

"You had better."

A familiar chipper voice resounded over the loudspeaker.

"Are you ready for some Yooyuball fun?!"

The crowd burst into uproarious cheers.

"The first match of the Altador Cup semi-finals is about to begin. Playing on the left is the ever popular Krawk Island!" She paused until the deafening shouts waned. "And playing on the right, everyone's favorite misunderstood villains, Darigan Citadel!" Shouts exploded about the stadium. Yet again, one could hear a mixture of cheers and boos.

"Well, if you're ready, ref!" The referee waved towards a couple of individuals shrouded by a room with thick glass windows. "Okay then, let's get this match started!"

In the center of the field, a metal ring opened. Out of it came a Yooyu with a brown plated exoskeleton. It curled into a ball just as the referee brought a small tin whistle up to his mouth.

The whistle blew, loud and ringing.

"Let the games begin!"


	4. Chapter 4

Author's note: It feels truly wonderful to finish a multiple part story. I had the largest grin on my face as I switched this story's progress to complete. I hope you enjoy the conclusion to this silly tale!

* * *

The second the whistle blew, both left forwards, Vickles and Hawkshanks, darted for the Yooyu. They both tried to scoop up the Petpet, but Hawkshanks made it first.

Vickles tackled the grey skinned, bandana-wearing Quiggle's sling, sending the Yooyu airborne. It neared the former captain's clutches. A quick jab to the gut sent him backwards as the Petpet rode in Dinksy's sling.

She darted about, narrowly avoiding the Darigan players. A wide angle shot narrowly missed the goal. Reshar tossed the ball halfway across the field, Shaye connected. Within a moment, he flung the Yooyu towards Bonnefie, who sidestepped an attempted tackle from Cassale.

Tormo's flippers waved twice as Sufhaux dashed towards the unguarded player, grey Grundo ears bent back. Bonnefie grinded her teeth as she turned from side to side; Vickles had remained open. A long-distance pass sent the Yooyu soaring. Dinksy attempted to leap off the group and intercept, but missed. Bonnefie dashed back, ready to cover Hawkshanks.

Just as Shaye signaled Vickles to turn around, Dinksy came charging, Frein in tow. The Hissi bolted towards the goal, sling-arm held high. His eyes darted back and forth as his tongue flicked out, detecting the slightest difference in wind currents.

Hale was ready for him. Claws out, the goalie's eyes followed each of Vickles' movements.

Vickles eyed the goal, pulse pounding, opponents approaching… and he slung.

Garven leapt sideways, barely catching the Yooyu in time.

"Not today, Layton!" shouted Hale, covered in dirt from the narrow save.

Hissed words escaped under Vickles' breath, one of which caused the goalie's eyebrow to rise.

"Hah, you really are angry, aren't you?" he said whilst whipping about in a circle. Using the spin's momentum, he slung the Yooyu even further than Reshar. Even in the distance, one could see the Jetsam shaking his gloved fist.

The match considered this way for some time. Often the Yooyu would be volleyed between the teams. Once, Dinksy managed to slip by Shaye and score a goal. Reshar received a yellow card shortly after, granting the pirates a penalty shot. They scored easily.

Vickles managed to grab a fire Yooyu and spike it towards Hale's goal from across the field. Much to the relief of the Darigan team, the Yooyu reached the top right corner of the goal, scoring them their first point.

During the last ten minutes of the match, the Darigans were down by two goals with a score of 3-5.

Shortly after the Krawk's scored with yet another snow Yooyu, Shaye flagged the referee down.

"Ref! I'd like to call a time-out. Our team needs to regroup and plan."

He blew the whistle, twisting his snout slightly.

"Normally, I'd only do this if Layton asked me directly, but since he's nodding over there, I'll grant you all two minutes. No more, no less."

The Krawks groaned softly, digging their heels into the soil.

"Thanks, ref," he said before turning to the team. "Alright, guys, huddle up."

Reluctantly, Vickles slid over to the group.

"Can you make it appear that I'm doing most of the talking?" he muttered.

"No time, Layton." Vickles scoffed, crossing one hand over another. "Alright, so here's what we have to do. Dinksy is a threat; she is quick-witted and an efficient scorer, despite her small size. We need someone to cover her—"

"She's all yours, Shaye," Vickles said through a snicker. Shaye raised his eyebrow, unfazed and emotionless.

"I can cover her, but she out paces me. Bonnefie, you're our fastest member. Can I trus—"

"Of course… Boss."

"Reshar?"

"Yeah, what did I do?"

"Keep playing as you are, but be aware of the Krawk's shooting pattern. They seem to prefer the lower left quadrant of your goal."

"Oh," the Jetsam said before walking back towards the goal. "Yeah, yeah, I'll be more aware."

"Good. Next up, Frein. Cover Hawkshanks. Focus on passing to Layton. He'll be our primary scorer."

Vickles managed to crack a grin.

"Layton, I want you to shoot from the bottom right corner of the field by the goal line. Hale is slightly weaker at blocking corner shots." He placed a paw on Vickles' shoulder. "Can I trust you to carry this out for us?"

"… As long as you call me 'Boss' again, I'll do whatever at this point," he spat.

After a snort from the Gelert, Vickles made a low, almost silent hiss.

"You never change… Boss."

"No," he said between stretches, suddenly acting more limber. "And I never will."

"Tch, you're as stubborn as always." The Gelert rolled his eyes before staring at the frozen clock. The announcers spent a good minute recapping the match up until then. "Can you let the ref know we're ready to play again?"

"Yeah, yeah, your highness," he yawned, slapping Shaye's leg with his tail.

Within seconds after the game timed in, the Darigans went into position. Anytime Dinksy caught the Yooyu, Bonnefie would do everything in her power to tackle and steal the ball back. Reshar managed to block two shots from Cassale, who had taken up a more offensive position since the break.

Still, Vickles managed to score thrice within a period of nine minutes, tying up the score 6-6. In the last 30 seconds of the game, a winged Yooyu appeared on the field. It's dark purple plating and black splotches matched that of many native Petpets to the citadel.

The entire stadium cringed. Such Yooyus never seemed to cooperate, often heading in the completely wrong direction. Sometimes they even rebounded into the unfortunate player's face. By some stroke of luck, Shaye not only grabbed the Yooyu at the tossup; it almost flew in the correct direction, only around 20 degrees off.

Vickles craftily scooped up the Yooyu and dashed towards the goal.

Ten seconds to go.

Most of the time, Yooyus remained curled up like a ball, but sometimes, one can see a mischievous grin coming from a Darigan Yooyu. It is said they only grin before they wish to cause a player considerable pain, no matter their team.

Seven seconds.

Vickles sent back his sling-arm and turned around before shooting the Yooyu towards the opposing wall.

Three seconds.

It bounced back with such force that it rebounded from the opposing wall.

One second.

The Yooyu entered the goal—barely passing Hale's clutches—in the middle of the referee's whistle.

The scoreboard still said 6-6, but the referee turned towards other Altador Cup officials holding clipboards and rule books. Nail biting and nervous quaking ensued. The audience's fever pitch died down to near silence.

The Scorchio walked out to the middle of the area with a very dapper looking Mynci.

"I am going to need both captains here at the center of the field," the golden suit wearing Red Mynci said, fiddling with his monocle and long black mustache. "Whoever I raise the arm of will be our semifinal match winner. As this is a semifinal match, there will be no tie-breaker rounds. The judge's decision will decide the match."

"Go, Boss," mouthed the Gelert silently, causing a deflated Vickles to perk up, if only slightly. "They don't have to know."

"Thanks, Shaye."

Both Hale and Vickles tried to hide their nervousness with smug smiles and crossed arms.

"Eh. You ain't bad, Vickles, even if you _are_ a Darigan turncoat."

"Hah," Vickles slammed the ground with his long arms. "If I'm a turncoat then you're a Faerielander. Pink kind of suits you, Hale. I think," a fang hung over his lower jaw, "you should consider switching jerseys next year. Who needs red and black, anyway?"

"Pfft. You're a jerk, Vickles."

"Eh, least I'm not a Faerie."

"Ehem, gentleman," the referee poked them both the side with a writing quill while clearing his throat. "The winner's announcement?"

"Go on," said Vickles, swishing his tail from side to side.

"Without any more interruptions, I hope?" Both Neopians huffed angrily, but said nothing. "No wonder you're friends," he muttered, grabbing hold of both of their claws.

"Neopians, I would like to present without further ado a most crowning achievement in these Altador Cup games. More than 1000 years before Y1 in the New Neopian Calendar, our fair Altador Cup was born. Originally created by—"

"We get it, now get on with it, Pops," said Hale, who squirmed when the official gripped his claw even tighter.

"What uncouth behavior to come from an Altadorian athlete!" He openly scolded the captain, causing Vickles to burst out laughing. Of course, the official wasted no time in scolding Vickles as well. "Now where was I? Oh, right, Altadorian history. Back in the year…."

He continued to blather on in a monotone for almost 20 minutes. At this point, the audience members started to become vocal, some even threw empty slushie cups. Excluding Hale and Vickles, all of the players sat down on the Yooyuball field, balancing their snouts and chins against metal rimmed Yooyu slings. Reshar and Hawkshanks nearly fell asleep sitting up on multiple occasions. Bonnefie had to keep pinching her teammate's back to keep him from snoring. Once, the Jetsam had shouted at her to 'knock it off!' but the official seemed so engrossed in his riveting material that he continued without even a moment's pause.

"…And that, my fellow Altador enthusiasts, is why the spirit of the game must continue if we are to continue these wonderful games."

Hale's eyes glossed over as a loud yawn escaped his snout.

"Humph. I bet you'd like to now the results Mister Hale and Mister Vickles?"

"Yes…" the both moaned in unison.

"I thought so," he chuckled before addressing the audience once more. "Now, without further ado…" at first, the Mynci began to raise both arms, causing Vickles to gulp loudly. Hale's arm rose faster than the Hissi's, causing him to completely deflate.

Then, out of nowhere, Vickles' arm shot straight up into the air.

The referee grinned widely, adding in a few laughs for good measure. "Come now, gentleman," he said, barely audible over the shouting Darigan fans. "What is a good results show without a little suspense?"

"We… we won?" the flabbergasted Hissi melted towards the ground the rest of the way, arms falling limply to the side.

"They won?" muttered Hale, yawning once more. A gloved claw slapped his face from below, causing him to jolt awake. "You wanna start a figh—Hawkshanks?"

"You expecting the mayor?" the Quiggle questioned, clutching onto his other glove. An aged scar ran down the right side of his face. It rippled when he smiled. "You looked tired, so I ran over here to wake you up. Aren't I a great pirate?"

"Enough roughhousing, you two," started the referee, who staggered a bit between shooing waves, probably from taking a nap during the official's speech. "We have an official announcement to make."

The crowd died down, but only a little.

"For those of you who could not see the official's decision, this match goes to Darigan Citadel!" The shouts became so loud that speaking over them proved nearly impossible for over a minute.

"Captains," he turned to each of them (or at least who he believed to be the captains). "Shake hands, er, claws for a fine match." Although the two of them faced each other expressionlessly, they forced a tightly squeezed handshake. Layton winced, shaking out his winged hand. "Also, an announcement for the Darigans; get ready to play in approximately three hours from now. The next match will be between the Haunted Woods and the Lost Desert!"

"Get ready to see some sparks fly, Altador Cup fans! And don't get _lost_ while making your way to the snack bar!" added the bubbly announcer.

The ten Altadorians made their way towards the hallway. Dinksy's wings fanned across her back, but she still wore a slight grin. The other Krawks, excluding Hale, seemed to be muttering to themselves. Cassale openly criticized any of her small misplays, causing the captain to elbow her in the side.

"Eh, we did our best, pirates. That's enough to be proud of, I guess. Least there's plenty of grog to go around in our practice room." He turned to Vickles, who seemed to be walking between the two groups, hissing words under his breath. Before the Hissi could react, Hale jabbed him in the gut. Vickles howled in pain, turning back to reciprocate the blow, but... Hale's sincere smile made him have second thoughts.

"Layton," a pile of the team's Yooyuball equipment now slung over his muscular arms. There was anger in his tone, but some of it seemed strained, comical even. "Your team had _better_ win later today. Only we can destroy you guys; no one else has that honor."

"Tch, we'll win, Hale. Mark my words; our citadel will be taking its second gold trophy today."

"Not if we take your trophy from your storeroom."

"Hah, real funny, Hale."

"But in all honesty…" the pirate began to flex his claws. "Win it for us, 'kay, Darigan?"

Vickles rubbed his sore stomach, reminded again of its stinging pain.

"We'll win it for the Krawk Citadel."

Members from both the Citadel and the Krawks burst out laughing. Hawkshanks even murmured, "Who in Neopia came up with that title?"

"Eh," the red-faced Vickles said with a shrug, "a little nuisance who taught me not to be such a jerk to my teammates… and friends."

"Sounds like junior has a good brain," blurted Frein. "Perhaps his is even better than yours, Layton."

While Vickles and Frein argued, Hale began to stroke his beard.

"Wonder if his Mother would allow me to sit with him and watch your match…" Hale said while flicking at his golden earring. "It's about time he learns about plundering, treasure hunting, and sailing the many Neopian seas. You got those tickets still, right?" Vickles nodded quizzically, flashing the tickets stubs. Hale quickly grabbed up both of them, causing the Hissi to grumble. "I can teach him all about our wonderful and completely non-floating landmass."

"That and grog," quipped Reshar.

"The lad might be tad young for that," laughed Cassale.

"Oh, and one more thing, Layton," the captain said while opening their practice room door. Before Vickles could respond, he punched the Darigan captain in the side, causing him to double over in pain.

"What gives, Hale?!"

"If you must know, that's for destroying my jersey. I sort of forgive you." Reshar and Bonnefie gasped, staring hypnotically at its washed out colors before shaking their heads and walking away. Only Vickles and Hale stood in the hall. "That and I want to team up with the kid and show him why he'd be a great pirate someday. Who knows, he could even be a rookie player in five years' time."

"He'd be a better Darigan, but yeah."

"Hah! Dream on, Layton."

"Tch, I will. Now, if you don't mind, I have a game to practice for."

* * *

The Darigan team hardly paid attention to the ongoing semifinal match.

Yooyus flew in all directions, dummies tackled, juice spilled (much to the displeasure of their Mynci chef), and Christopher's Mother (according to the raving chef, she preferred to be called Margaret) asked questions left and right. Vickles received a large majority of these inquiries.

While the lot of them talked, Christopher attempted to score a goal, but fell short on throwing power.

"Gees, kid," a Yooyu bounced back to the Tonu from a laughing Reshar. "You have a pretty good technique. Give it another couple of years and the power will be there too."

"Really?" little twinkles bounced about in the Christopher's eyes.

"Hey, would I lie to you?"

"Wow, Reshar. Who would have thought," Bonnefie paused to body slam a dummy, "that you'd have it in you to be nice to the little ones?"

"Yeah, yeah, but he's no regular kid. He's a future All Star—a Darigan one at that. "

"Aaaah!" shouted the Tonu, hopping up and down. Margaret glanced towards him, turned her lips up for a half-second, and continued to drill Vickles with questions.

"With… all due respect," interrupted Shaye in the middle of her interview, "I think we may be requiring Layton's services for a little while."

"Of course, _Captain_. I'm sorry to have dragged him away from practice for so long." Shaye's tail wrapped about his leg as he narrowly avoided eye contact with Vickles. He could still feel some form of animosity radiating from the Hissi, even from half a room away.

They continued to do drills for the next hour before taking a break for a quick meal.

"You're lucky I still cook for you all," the Mynci spat, serving the five their meals—a tropical fruit sandwich with purple and black vegetables. When Christopher began to whimper, the chef rolled his eyes before making him a plateful as well.

Jubilant chatter went about the table, despite the earlier tension. Christopher pulled up a chair next to Vickles, noisily babbling about his experience with the junior Yooyuball league in Brightvale. Vickles opened his mouth to take another bite of the (surprisingly) good sandwich when the door flung open.

The sandwich fell to the floor, bread and all. Margaret screamed, jumping out of her seat and dashing behind Shaye.

"H-hale?! What are you doing in that outfit?"

"Pfft, like you didn't sneak into the stands wearing Krawk Island fan gear, cheering like some sort of crazed Techo fanatic."

Most of the Neopians in the room eyed Vickles angrily, chewing each bite slowly and deliberately. They then turned to Hale, completely flabbergasted by his poofy purple and black wig, Darigan Citadel team face paint, and even a purple and black scarf, which dangled loosely around his neck.

"I take it you're here to admit your alliance to our citadel? Or are you just a fan of the colors?"

Hale cackled. "Dream on, Vickles. I'm here to invite the little tyke to cheer in the stands with me. I mean, come on, who _wouldn't_ want to spend time with not one but _two_ team captains in the same day? Sounds like a pretty good deal to me."

"Ohmygosh," the Tonu began to flail about his hoofs, running about the room while Shaye coughed quietly into his napkin. "Can I, Mom? Please, please? He's sooo cool!" Hale snickered, levying an eyebrow in front of an unamused Vickles.

"I suppose I have no other choice since you'll probably run off either way," the journalist said, eyeing him angrily. "But Misters Hale and Vickles," she quickly sifted through piles of organized notebooks as the pirate captain adjusted his almost hidden bandana. "You and I are going to need to chat again sometime later."

"Fine, you'll see me after our match…" sighed Vickles.

Hale chortled before pointing both claws towards the door. "Shall we?"

* * *

Based on some reports, the Haunties played extremely well—almost a shutout. Azar, the desert's elegant right forward, used her fancy footwork to outpace the Woods' defense, scoring three goals within four minutes. Each time the Scorchio scored a goal, her golden shawl danced about in the breeze. Some even said that, at her happiest, her brilliant red scales shimmered in the sun.

Zo, as usual, did a majority of the Woods' scoring.

The final score was 9-3.

30 minutes of practice prior to their finals match, Shaye tossed the former captain a brand new Darigan jersey, rips and all.

"… You don't have to do this for me. I've been nothing but terrible as of late."

"Eh, we all want you to play your best, Boss. Besides, bygones are bygones." He offered a fist bump, which Vickles grudgingly accepted. "We mostly agree that you're learned your lesson, but," Shaye lowered his voice, causing Vickles to exhale loudly, "until the end of the match, I'll still be acting as your captain."

One of the Hissi's hands pinched against his purple scaly skin, causing him to wince. Tandrak shuffled his feet about, scraping against the carpeted floor.

"Never forget, however, that we are Darigan strong. We either win this together or not at all!"

Vickles rubbed his shining eyes, massaging them slowly. "I guess you're right, Shaye; we have a game to win."

Tumultuous applause could be heard for miles as the melodious Altadorian theme played. Fans from all over Neopia took sides, and it seemed like an even split. Some especially indecisive Neopians wore a mixture of fan gears hailing from Haunted Woods and Darigan Citadel. They touted cartoonish signs resembling speech bubbles and had the words 'Go Haunted Citadel!' written in capitalized black, orange, and purple letters. One 'Haunted Citadel' sign even said, 'thank you for the inspiration, Vickles!'

"Looks like you started a trend, Boss," Shaye grinned while pacing ahead of the Darigan team. Vickles trailed behind, feeling heat rise through his face. Looking away proved difficult when so many Neopians now cheered his name.

"Better to be adored than hated, Boss!" Vickles' tail wiggled in the dirt, but he remained still. "Wave to them, Layton, they'll love it!"

"Are you serious?" he mouthed to a shrugging Gelert.

"Hey, how often is it that we make it to the finals?"

"Pfft, not often enough," interjected Reshar. "So if _he_ won't play nice with the kiddies, I guess I will." With a strut, the goalie raised his right flipper to the sky, shouting, "For Darigan Citadel!"

Quiet settled over the crowd, causing Reshar to throw his goalie glove to the ground and mutter all kinds of angry things.

"It's no good, Boss." Shaye's ears bounced up and down, matching the movement of his brows. "They want to cheer for you, the Krawk-jersey-wearing hero of our previous match."

"I don't really have a choice in the matter, do I?"

Shaye grinned, but said nothing.

"Fine, but if you comment about this later…" Vickles muttered as he brought his sling arm up into the air. It rose slowly as if it needed time to warm up. Shouts became louder as his right fist reached its pinnacle.

"Always the showman, aren't you, Captain?" came a hovering voice. Cool air blew from above.

Vickles looked up to see the Wood's center forward holding up his Clawmato sized left paw in the exact same pose, only mirrored.

"Stealing my thunder, eh, Zo?"

"What are friends for?" he gave a thumbs up before facing the stadium's logo with a huge grin. The gigantic circular plaque was surrounded by multicolored semicircles that stood for each of Neopia's many worlds. Bright sunlight poured onto the symbol, making all of the team logos shimmer. "Besides, this is the first time in almost a decade since we faced you guys in the finals! I know the team's been _dying_ to play you all again."

Zo hovered within reach of the ground, but just high enough that Vickles could speak to him without staring straight down.

"Let's have a great match, eh, Captain Vickles?" He offered a paw, which Vickles firmly gripped. Their elbows met just as the referee asked for the remaining team members to do the same.

"Don't we always play great matches, Zo?" Vickles responded with a shrug. "Historical rivalries are there for a reason, you know!"

"Oh, I know," said the star scorer with a wink concealed to all but Vickles. "We are just aiming to claim our second title in the same way we did our first—by defeating the greatest citadel this side of Neopia."

Before Vickles could respond with a sarcastic quip, he felt a tugging sensation along the nape of his long, scaly neck. Shaye tapped his boot against the ground, eyeing a position approximately 30 feet away—left forward.

Throughout Vickle's and Zo's prolonged dialogue, the announcer's had introduced both teams.

Without a word, the former captain raced to his position and the first Yooyu lifted, like some sort of miracle, up into the sky. It hovered there for just a moment before the referee blew his whistle.

The finals had begun.

* * *

Within a second, Zo's breakneck speed reinforced his consistent goal-per-game average. Without a second's hesitation, the Yooyu rocketed towards Reshar's goal. A well-timed jump sent the Petpet hurtling towards Bonnefie. An aggressive tackle from Zo nearly knocked her to the ground, sending the Yooyu flying. A return tackle left the Yooyu back in her midst and the Korbat skidding across the ground.

Shaye eyed his teammate from a distance, patting his right arm three times and tilting both ears towards Tormo. Just as the Yooyu connected with the stout right defender, a lumbering figure stood in his way, making it difficult to see the field.

"Mortigan!" cried Tormo, desperately whipping his head from side to side in an attempt to pass the ball once more.

"Braaaaaains," he moaned while elbowing the Yooyu out of Tormo's sling, "is fiiiiine." A lob from the grey-skinned Usul sent his matted mane soaring into the air alongside the Petpet. No sooner did he mutter the words, "Aaaall yours, Zo," did the Yooyu start racing down the field once more.

Vickles could be seen flailing his arms about, eyeing Shaye with a mixture of anger and confusion.

"Poor decision making," he muttered. "This is going to cost us big time."

A few seconds later, the crowd burst into applause.

"GOOOOAAAAL!" shouted the referee. "That's one point for the Haunted Woods, zero for Darigan Citadel."

Any time the Yooyu made it back towards the Haunties' side, either 'Brains' or Krell, their shaggy furred captain with a long, almost sentient seeming brown mane and glowing green eyes, would take back the prize and pass it to their star scorer, who, like Vickles, had since succeeded in making it past the opposing team's torrid defenses.

An hour later, the heated match still raged with a flat score of 2-2. Just 30 seconds remained on the clock. Vickles tried desperately to make a shot at the goal, but instead felt the hulking presence of Brains who eyed his head like one might look upon a fine steak.

"Eeee, I'm sure plenty of players have more meat on their bones than I do! Why don't you just go after him instead?" he blurted while pointing towards Hale. Vickles voice shook as he tried to make an awkwardly positioned corner shot with 'Brains' in close pursuit.

"Faaaast fooood," replied 'Brains' with a grin just as another, very familiar voice rang out through the crowd.

"LAAAYTON! Miss this shot and I'll never forgive you!" the Hissi glanced up to see a fist-shaking Hale. Christopher sat on the edge of his seat pressed against the arm rest, lower lip exposed.

A green plated Yooyu with black spikes flew towards the goal. Fanetti, the black and grey furred goalkeeper with blood red eyes and short, stubby wings readied himself, watching the Petpet's every twitch.

Without warning, the Yooyu broke away, zooming towards the centralized timer. With some luck, Fanetti managed to tackle the rogue Yooyu and throw it back onto the field.

"Blasted mutant Yooyus!" shouted the Hissi while capturing it on the rebound. Yet again, Hale's piercing voice could be heard within the crowd. He then attempted to make another shot.

It flew in the opposite direction.

Dirx, the mummy wrapped right defender caught Fanetti's powerful goal throw. As the clock neared to zero, the Techo zipped along the field's periphery only to fling the mutant Yooyu clear across the field to an awaiting Zo Junior.

Ten seconds to go and the Korbat weaved about Darigan's defense.

Five seconds remained as he shot up into the air, quickly followed by Bonnefie. She eyed him carefully, swaying at the slightest hair of movement. Like a bullet he charged below Bonnefie's wings, scraping roughly against her cleats.

Amidst the stinging pain, he flung the Yooyu towards the goal watching as it magically sped up, likely copying the characteristics of one of its fiery cousins.

"GOOOOOOOAL!" shouted the referee at the very last second of the game.

Bonnefie floated in the air, turning her face away from Reshar who, as usual, showed no interest in holding back his frustration. Zo limped from the goal towards a cup official, paw gripping against his slightly torn and shuddering right wing. Bonnefie followed shortly behind, apologizing every couple of seconds.

Unaware of the other team's happenings, Vickles slunk to the ground, hiding his face behind the Yooyu sling. Its metal surface felt cool to the touch.

"To come so far and have lost…" he muttered, punching the dusty field. Some of the dirt splashed up, making its way into his beady green eyes.

A light poke tapped at Vickles' back causing a jolt to be sent through his system.

"I… I just wanted to thank you for the fantastic match, Layton."

The deep, booming voice resonated in Vickles' ears. Even after years of knowing their team, Fanetti's commanding orations always seemed odd when compared to Krell's rather high-pitched and youthful voice.

"Thank you, Fanetti." His voice trailed off as the audience displayed their typical range of emotions: some acted overjoyed, others bitter and resentful. The goalie offered his gloved paw to the fallen forward.

"Come on, Layton. It isn't like you to mope like this."

Vickles pushed away the opponents' paw, rising up with creaking scales and a limp tail.

"I know you mean well,' he started, slithering towards the stadium center, "but I'm going to get up on my own." His face buried into the sling once more, hidden from both Hale and Christopher.

Within minutes, a team of suited Altadorians set up a podium. The same rambling Mynci took to the top of the stage carrying what appeared to be tightly bound golden scroll with a seal that resembled a shining sun. As he struggled to crawl up to the peak, the scroll's lock clicked open. Miles of parchment unraveled from the document as it rolled down the podium. It stretched almost half a goal's length away. Even the light breeze typical of the Altador region could not lift the speech more than a centimeter or two.

"We come here to celebrate these brave Altadorians in their valiant efforts on this tenth year of the new Altador Cup," he began in a monotonous droll. A good number of audience members cheered, although they too knew what was to come. "Back in the year 1000 BN, King Altador and …."

The haunted champions deflated to the ground while the Darigans stared at the audience. Zo and Bonnefie sat next to each other, the latter still dabbing at her puffy compound eyes. Bandages covered the Korbat's wing, making him appear almost mummified. A sea of different colors surrounded them on all sides. Neopians of all description seemed to be dozing off; others shook their paws in rage. Needless to say, watching their antics proved to be more interesting than an Altadorian history lesson.

"… and that concludes my oration this year. May we have Krell Vitor, Layton Vickles, and Leera Heggle to the podium, please?"

A long trail of drool dripped from Vickles' sideways turned mouth; his eyes focused on a speck of dirt that seemed to be twirling in the wind.

"_Layton Vickles_, if you please?" the announcer cleared his throat loudly, causing Vickles to blink a few times, turn his head from side to side, and sigh when both of the other team captains made chortled whispers to each other.

Shaye elbowed him, nodded vigorously, and tilted his head towards the foot-tapping Mynci.

"My days of leading are over," he hissed. "Now get out there and stop looking so depressed, will 'ya?"

Vickles slowly paced towards the announcer.

"Without any further, ahem, _interruptions_… let us award these teams with their respective trophies. Please, Altador Cup fans, do not applaud until all awards have been given. Coming in third, based on play record, is Team Lost Desert!"

One sole Altadorian, a wide-eyed Techo wearing every desert theme item one could imagine, screamed so loudly even the distant team members cringed.

"Escort that Techo off the premises, please," he said to a bunch of nervously shuffling suits. They all shook their heads. One of them claimed him to be a famous Neopian citizen and one of the cup's most _enthusiastic_ and powerful supporters, monetary power included.

"I see," huffed the official while turning to the muscular brown-furred Kau. His sleek silver horns stretched half the size of his face and a golden earring dangled from his left ear. "We of the Altador Cup committee would like to present you with this bronze medal and all the rights and responsibilities attributed to this honor." Heggle gripped the shining token in his hoof, craning his neck back to face the now cloudless sky.

"Next, Layton Vickles." The Hissi tightened up knowing that the entire audience now watched him. A medal engraved with the cup's symbol slipped above his bowed head and slithered down his neck. "We of the Altador Cup committee would like to present your team with the silver medal and all of the rights and responsibilities attributed to this honor."

Before Layton could sneak a closer peek at the award, he felt a tug at his collar. "And for goodness' sake, Mister Vickles, show at least _some_ respect for the old traditions if you want your team of jolly pranksters to return next year."

Metal slipped through his hands and dangled in the air.

"Are we clear?"

"… Of course."

In the Hissi's mind was an image of the official spitting out rancid coffee from a seemingly normal cup. _Perhaps next year_, he thought. _But why stop there? Perhaps a costume switcharoo is in order…_ He next imagined the official wearing an orange wig and maid's apron while making the cup's announcements. It proved exceedingly difficult to hold a straight face.

Meanwhile, Krell had been busily tapping out a rhythm on the wooden platform. Under his breath, he hummed some sort of slow, wispy song that resembled a long, drawn out howl.

"And finally, without any ado… Our CHAMPIONS!" he mustered some excitement during this exclamatory phrase while nodding to a group of Eyrie officials, all of whom had the honor of carrying buckets filled with celebratory décor. Blizzards of confetti drifted from the sky, coating Krell (as well as the rest of the nearby players) in multicolored paper snow. Between all of the excitement, the trophy nearly slipped from his confetti covered paws. The stadium became a flurry of excitement. No longer could anything be heard but the cheers of thousands of fans and clapping team members.

This cheers carried on for some time before spectators scurried back to their daily lives, officials carried out stadium decorations for next year's cup, and the many teams shook hands before turning their backs on yet another successful tournament.

After a few hours, no one but the janitorial staff remained. They dusted off the fields, placed covers over the goals, and dragged them into storage.

Vickles sat in an empty seat on the stadium's periphery staring at the scene. He no longer donned the typical Darigan wardrobe, but instead wore a black short-sleeved shirt with a small cartoonish skull print in the center and… the Krawk Island crazy wig. Bags full of training gear leaned against his tail, carefully balanced.

Shaye on the other hand always spent time post-cup with the pirates.

_He's probably just raiding their snack stash_, the voice in his head assured him. Every other team, for the most part, already picked up their Yooyuball equipment and left shortly after the winner's announcement.

The Altadorian sun was slowly setting, painting the sky in a dazzling pallet of color. Stars peaked through wisps of pinks, purples, and oranges. Clouds lazily rolled by, dotted with the undertones of disappearing hues.

Vickles watched in silence as every color burst and fade, shined and decayed.

Sounds echoed throughout the stadium as the last lights fell. Amidst the near darkness, a small figure with an enormous head skipped about and hummed what sounded like a swashbuckling song. A mist escaped from the Hissi's mouth as he sighed.

"_Uncle Shaye_!" laughed the familiar voice of Christopher while straightening the giant purple and black wig. "We were looking all over for you!"

"No doubt your Mother wants to ream me for skipping out on our interview?" Vickles slumped further into the plastic rimmed chair wishing he could melt into its surface (or at very least camouflage).

"Well…" the Tonu shuffled his feet, smile fading.

"No wonder you're here so late," he responded flatly. "Eh, she can bug me when we're back at the Citadel. I just want to sit here for now." He paused, staring at the field for a few seconds. "You know, reflect and such."

"What's wrong?" pried Christopher while jumping over the railing and into the neighboring seat.

"Kid!" he roared, quick to catch his breath and apologize. "Look, I… I just need to think."

"About what?"

"… Things, stuff, what does it matter to you?"

"I'm your biggest fan!" he pointed to the Darigan Citadel jersey, then to the wig. "And… you're still my hero."

Vickles softly rapped at the arm rest, looking towards what would have been the Krawk's goal.

"A hero that really messed up, that's what I am."

"No, you're—"

"A hero that made his closest friend seethe with rage, his teammates nearly abandon him, and nearly made you cry. You don't want me as your hero, Christopher. I'm no role model, I'm—"

"You're what, Layton Vickles? 'Cause if you were about to say a bad guy, don't."

Vickles whipped around (nearly elbowing Christopher in the process) and saw a gruff figure, arms crossed and teeth bearing.

"Hale?! What are you doing—"

"Looking for the Darigan doofus I call my friend. Why else do you think I'd stay here so late?"

"But I… I failed you, Hale! I failed everyone."

"Stop it with the moping, Vickles. This isn't the rival I respect even if he does sometimes let a prank go too far."

"I… I'm sorry—"

Hale gripped Vickles' shirt, lifting him into the air from above.

"If you stopped being such a Star of Paradise, you would have noticed I forgave you hours ago. Well, at least for the prank. The other… you're just gonna have to make it up to me."

"A Star of what?" he choked, arms dangling to the side.

"A froufrou flower, that's all." Vickles plunged back into the seat with a thump.

"… Fine, then, I'm a Star of Paradise. So tell me, Hale, how can I make it up to you? We lost the championship!"

"Same way you always do—practice like crazy. That way we can beat the snot out of you next year in the championship round."

Warm air blasted from the Hissi's nostrils. "Like we're going to let you take the title _that_ easily, Hale."

In the background, Christopher giggled, holding a hoof in front of his mouth.

"You guys really do make a good team," he chuckled, eyes shining. "'Krawk Citadel' for life, right?"

Both captains exhaled as Vickles slowly lifted himself out of the chair. Christopher followed, tilting his head in confusion. As the three of them neared the passageway, Hale punched Vickles in the shoulder, the Hissi reciprocated.

Vickles bent over and whispered a few words into his rival's ear.

"You really want me to say that, Layton?" Vickles nodded.

"We'll say it together."

"Hah, why not? It'll make the kid happy." Christopher hopped up and down, babbling excitedly.

"On the count of three?"

"Sounds fair."

Garven counted down three of his clawed fingers until the third claw touched his palm. The two captains pounded their fists together before holding them high in the darkened sky.

"Krawk Citadel forever!"

~The End~


End file.
